I saw an Internet article that listed my hometown among the 10 most boring cities in America. The researcher certainly never contacted me for comment because I haven't had a boring day here since 2003. I'm sure it has something to do with the people I live with, so if you're bored, I'm willing to loan them out!
Today is day three of the new school year, and already we've fallen off the wagon. Well that's not right, but give me another day! Maybe the right phrase is that our train of success has derailed. This morning the hubs had a very early meeting. "We" were up by 5:15. I say we because I grumbled something like, "it's way too early for me to even like you right now" and curled up on the living room sofa while he got ready. Not being morning people, events that transpire before the sun comes up tend to be bad omens.
Today is day three of the new school year, and already we've fallen off the wagon. Well that's not right, but give me another day! Maybe the right phrase is that our train of success has derailed. This morning the hubs had a very early meeting. "We" were up by 5:15. I say we because I grumbled something like, "it's way too early for me to even like you right now" and curled up on the living room sofa while he got ready. Not being morning people, events that transpire before the sun comes up tend to be bad omens.
So the king King was out the door before the princes and princess fully emerged from their rooms, and they concluded the rules went to work with him. As they were eating breakfast, the girl screams "he's trying to kill me!" With her that could mean a range of things from a brother is poised to whack her with a bat, to there's a bird on the window sill with an angry look on his face. This time it meant little brother had tossed a rose petal from the bouquet I plucked from the garden last night into her drink.
I assured her that roses aren't poisonous, fished it out, and handed her the glass. She continued screaming "aphids! The aphids are in my drink. Now I'll starve!" Because that makes sense. I guess a hunger strike is the imminent response to insect contamination of your milk glass. I was unaware. I said that aphids aren't poisonous or ladybugs wouldn't eat them, and even if they were, I didn't bring roses inside that had aphids on them, and even then, if one was in her drink, one wouldn't hurt her. The drama didn't end. In fact, I expect to get an email from her teacher inquiring if I really force my kids to eat bugs for breakfast.
While this conversation was going nowhere, the boys went to brush their teeth and fix their hair. And by that, I mean the oldest used his dad's beard trimmer to remove his brother's sideburns. What 7 year old has sideburns?! We also have an explicit rule that you're never allowed to cut your own hair or your siblings' hair. History (and sitcom television) has prompted us to leave no gray area on this subject. But like I said, the rules must have gone to work with Dad.
This pic was taken seconds before I used tiny safety scissors (that's all I could find at that moment) to clip the remaining strands over his ears, said a quick prayer that no one would look too closely at both sides of his head and realize how odd his hair looks, and loaded everyone in the car.
Maybe tomorrow I will get to be bored, but it seems highly unlikely.
I assured her that roses aren't poisonous, fished it out, and handed her the glass. She continued screaming "aphids! The aphids are in my drink. Now I'll starve!" Because that makes sense. I guess a hunger strike is the imminent response to insect contamination of your milk glass. I was unaware. I said that aphids aren't poisonous or ladybugs wouldn't eat them, and even if they were, I didn't bring roses inside that had aphids on them, and even then, if one was in her drink, one wouldn't hurt her. The drama didn't end. In fact, I expect to get an email from her teacher inquiring if I really force my kids to eat bugs for breakfast.
While this conversation was going nowhere, the boys went to brush their teeth and fix their hair. And by that, I mean the oldest used his dad's beard trimmer to remove his brother's sideburns. What 7 year old has sideburns?! We also have an explicit rule that you're never allowed to cut your own hair or your siblings' hair. History (and sitcom television) has prompted us to leave no gray area on this subject. But like I said, the rules must have gone to work with Dad.
This pic was taken seconds before I used tiny safety scissors (that's all I could find at that moment) to clip the remaining strands over his ears, said a quick prayer that no one would look too closely at both sides of his head and realize how odd his hair looks, and loaded everyone in the car.
Maybe tomorrow I will get to be bored, but it seems highly unlikely.
Lol! I hope you recovered during the school day!
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